


Enough

by DeadlyBingo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 4x21, Angst, F/M, Reunion, Support, olicity - Freeform, post 4x21 fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6865642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyBingo/pseuds/DeadlyBingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the events of 4x21, Monument Point, Felicity is not only physically and mentally exhausted, but overwhelmed with guilt over those she couldn’t save.  So Oliver steps in to provide the type of support that only he can and give hope to the person who so often helped him to keep fighting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

Like so much in Felicity’s life, it all happened because she had made a joke.

Well… she _tried_ to make a joke.  After 27 and ½ hours awake, and spending almost 21 of those hours attempting to prevent a nuclear apocalypse (which she only _partially_ avoided) while simultaneously dealing with her father and getting fired from her job, it seemed that joking was no longer in her repertoire.

Following a debrief at the bunker, the team was all heading home to sleep so they had a chance of surviving whatever hell Darhk would unleash on them next.  Felicity was almost to the elevator, purse slung over her shoulder, when she attempted a nonchalant remark that she felt more in danger of falling asleep at the wheel than Darhk’s goons.  

Her comment was _supposed_ to make her companions laugh, or, at the very least, make them stop worrying about her. But of course it had the opposite effect on Oliver; he knew her too well. He immediately walked over, pulled her keys from her purse, and led the way to her car without another word.  She was too tired to protest.  

At least that’s what she told herself.  But if Felicity were completely honest, she knew that Oliver was the _only_ person she wanted beside her at that moment.  Before now, he had had the highest body count on the team. He had experienced the most regret, carried the most shame.  He was the closest to understanding the pain she was in, the guilt that flooded her lungs each time she tried to draw a breath and made her feel like she was constantly drowning.  Even if his failures were now nowhere close to the level of her’s, at least he could _begin_ to understand what Felicity was going through.

Which was probably why he didn’t bother talking.

Lyla, Diggle, and even her father had all made some version of the same comment.  That Felicity had done what was needed, that she made the _right_ call, but Felicity knew that in no universe could someone qualify killing tens of thousands of people as the _right_ decision.  Rational, yes.  Necessary, sure.  But not right. _Never right_.

Earlier that day, Oliver had said she was the _best_.  He had believed in her.  The looks of disappointment when the team arrived told her they they had too.  On some subconscious level, none of them thought this would _really_ happen.  They assumed that this time they wouldn’t just save Star City, but the world. But Felicity hadn’t been fast enough.  She’s hadn’t been smart enough.

She hadn’t been _enough_.

All those people had died out of no fault of their own.  Mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, _entire families_  wiped off the face of the Earth in a matter of moments. And all because Felicity Smoak, the former IT girl from Las Vegas, had been stupid enough to think _she_ could save the world.

To top it all off, as much as it seemed so petty to think of now, she had lost her job today.  Not just her job, she had lost a multi-billion dollar company.  One she had just started to believe she was worthy of running. One she had grown to be proud of, grown to love.

And all of this while “playing nice” with the man who made it impossible for her to think she was enough throughout her entire childhood.  She couldn’t help but wonder if he had been there, if she had had his love, his support, his _guidance_ as a child… maybe she would have done better? Been better?

Felicity didn’t question how Oliver knew where she lived now. She just let him drive as she sunk into the passenger seat of her car, gripping her seatbelt until her knuckles turned white. Nor did she bother to wonder how he was able to lead the way through her convoluted apartment building without even the slightest hesitation to find the right door.  And she didn’t even blink when he shrugged off his own jacket at the door, placing it beside her purse before turning to her and finally whispering, “You need to sleep.”

“I um…” She wanted to claim she had work to do, but she couldn’t use that excuse anymore.  So instead she just avoided his gaze, looking around her dark living room instead.

“You _need_ to sleep,” he reiterated, following her eyes before taking a few steps toward the bedroom door, which was left just a crack open to show an edge of her bed. “I can make you some hot cocoa while you wash your face? Change into some pajamas?”

How could she sleep? How could she _deserve to sleep_? After everything that happened?  After everything she did?  After everything she _failed_ to do?

Oliver kept watching her, stubbornly waiting for her answer.

“I can’t...” 

“Felicity, you’re _exhausted_.  You need rest.  We _all_ do.  Darhk will be back with a vengeance soon enough and we can’t afford time to-”

“No.” She was firm this time, her voice the equivalent of a verbal foot stomp.  “I _can’t_ ,” she repeated.

“Why? What's going through your mind?  _Talk to me_ , Felicity,” Oliver prompted, stepping behind her to pull her coat from her shoulders.

“I can’t close my eyes.  Not… not without…” Felicity drew a shuddered breath, unable to even think the words, let alone say them out loud.

“Thinking of it? Thinking of the people?” Oliver concluded for her.

She nodded.  How would she go forward? Not just through tonight, but the rest of her life with this guilt on her shoulders?  It would only get worse when the pain was no longer diluted by pure exhaustion.  She just needed a moment of reprieve, time to get her strength back so she could even think about continuing to fight.

“Just tell me what you need, Felicity.  What can I do?”

Felicity looked directly at Oliver for the first time in her apartment.  He seemed out of place in a sparsely decorated room.  She had never noticed how low the ceilings were, how small her couch was, until they were placed beside him.

Her _couch_.  Damn, she wanted him on that couch.  Now.

It took her by surprise how _quickly_ , how drastically her thoughts shifted.  Moments ago she couldn’t stop thinking about what she had done, what she had failed to do.  She couldn’t get out of her own brain.  But now her mind was consumed with the needs of her body.  With the fact that Oliver was _there_ and they were _alone_.  On good terms. In her apartment. And that he clearly wanted to make her feel better.

And Felicity knew how he could make her feel better.  How he could so _easily_ distract her from everything that had happened in the past day.

Oliver cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes as he examined Felicity’s face.  He was worried about her. She knew that.  And she tried not to think about the guilt she would feel about using that concern to her advantage.  Convincing him to undress wouldn’t be all that hard.  She knew his eyes still lingered on her whenever he thought she wasn’t looking.  The same way she did to him whenever he looked away.  That attraction, that desire, that _need_ hadn’t gone away when she moved out.  Like the love she still felt for him, she wasn’t sure it ever would.

When they were together he had almost loved her so much, so enthusiastically, that when she was in Oliver's arms, she felt more alive, more confident, than any other time in her life. She felt smart, beautiful, _good_.  She felt like she was more than _enough_.

And she needed to feel that again.   _Just to get through the night._

Felicity didn’t say anything.  Her brain still wasn’t clear enough to think of something even remotely sexy to say.  But once her body caught onto her plan, a surge of adrenaline ran through her veins, waking up the nerves that has already tried to go to sleep.  Electricity burst from her chest, running down her arms and to her fingertips, which itched to reach out for him, to draw him closer.

She kicked off her shoes and approached Oliver slowly, or as slowly as she could make herself, while she let her eyes draw up his form.  It appeared all the desires she had blocked out since the breakup hadn’t disappeared, they had just retreated into a dark recess in her mind, waiting for an opportunity.  And now they were coming back in full force, all united, as she closed the distance between their bodies, bringing herself near enough that she could smell the sweat from his mission, feel the heat radiating off of his skin, hear the hitch in his breath as his eyes lowered to her face.

As she reached out and ran her fingers down his arms, she even felt a smile creep across her lips.  He was so strong.  So solid.  She could give everything to him.  Her fear, her pain, her guilt.  He could provide her relief, even if only temporarily.

Oliver mumbled something but her brain didn’t even try to register the words.  Words didn’t matter now.   _Nothing_ mattered now.  Possibly other than moving him toward the bedroom.  Not that they _had_ to make it that far.  The couch would do, even if Oliver’s feet had to hang off the end of it.  They’d survive.

Felicity’s fingers started toward his abs, _God_ she missed touching those abs. She missed spreading her fingers out and running them over the hills and valleys of Oliver’s stomach.  She had never gotten tired of the mixture of his strength and the gentle warmth of his skin under her fingertips.

The second time he spoke, just as she started to reach under his shirt, his words were clearer.

“Felicity.   _Hold up_.”

“I thought…” Felicity looked up to meet Oliver’s narrowed eyes.  Mixed in with the longing, the exhaustion, the pain, was an element of suspicion.  “I thought this was what you _wanted_?”

“ _This_?  Or us?” Oliver took a step back while reaching out to tilt Felicity’s chin up so she looked him in the eye. “Us is what I wanted.  Us is what I’ll _always_ want… but this? Now?  I can’t Felicity… _we_ can’t. It’s a bad idea.”

Anger surged in her chest.  So sudden, so violent, she almost couldn’t identify the feeling at first.  

“Well I’ve had _a lot_ of bad ideas today, Oliver,” she snapped, her eyes flicking up and down his body. “And what do you mean you _can’t_?!”  He was lying; she very much knew he _could_.  For some reason he just didn’t _want_ to.  How could he not want to?!  He had made it so clear he still wanted to get back together.  At least he had _before_ today.

“Felicity, I-”

“It’s not like we haven’t before?! What’s stopping you now?”

“I don’t think you’re thinking this through.” Oliver’s voice was steady, an obnoxious attempt at being reassuring that set Felicity’s blood boiling. “You just need-”

Felicity cut him off, her voice growing louder.  “ _Stop_ telling me what I need.”

Oliver sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he whispered her name, “Felicity…”

His tone was so calm, so resolved, that the rejection was yet another punch to the gut on a day that she had been stupid enough to assume couldn’t get any worse.  Was she going to lose everything today?  Even the one thing, the one person, she had assumed would _always_ have her back?

“I just, I just need _something_.  I need a distraction, I just need… I need _help_ Oliver.  I need _you_.”  Felicity could hear the pleading edge into her voice, but she didn’t care.  Not anymore.  Her pride was already long gone.

“And I _will_ help you, Felicity.  I promise.  But if we survive this, _when_ we survive this… I _can’t_ have a choice like this ruin us. It might help in this moment but that’s not what you really need right now… you need _rest.  Sleep._ ” Felicity would feel the tears burning in her eyes and the look of sympathy Oliver gave her confirmed that she sounded as crazy as she felt. “Of course I want you… but I also know the last thing you need on your plate right now, the last thing either one of us need, is to break down more walls without thinking. Not when our foundation is _already_ so shaken.”

“But Oliver… I… I can’t.” Panic forced out the anger in Felicity’s chest, causing her to draw in a deep breath as she pulled away and started pacing the carpeted room. “If this is how I feel when I’m so exhausted I can’t even think straight? _How_ will I make it through tomorrow? How will I go through my day knowing that I-”

“You will be okay.  We will be okay.   _Together_.  That won’t ever change, Felicity.  And everything else, with us, that we’ll figure out too.   _Just not now_ …” Oliver reached out to Felicity’s hand and pulled her back in toward him.  “Every day I trust you.  Whatever you say over those comms, I do.  Now I just need you to trust _me_ on this, Felicity. Please, just trust me.”

Felicity nodded her consent, leaning in so Oliver could gently kiss the top of her head.  “Now, let’s get you in bed,” he directed, placing a hand on her back as they walked toward the bedroom.  “Sleep is first, only after that do we think about next steps.”

As they walked Oliver’s hand grounded her in a way that only he could at that moment. Sure his hand across her back didn't provide the complete escape from her pain that Felicity initially desired. But it provided what she _needed_.  

“I won't be able to stay asleep…” Felicity admitted as she crawled into bed, still fully clothed as Oliver pulled the covers up over her chest. She knew her body would take over, force her into a rem cycle out of pure desperation, but that wasn’t her fear. Once she had an ounce of energy she knew she'd be awake, the screams she never got to hear echoing in her ears.  And she wasn’t ready for that.

Oliver thought for a moment, biting his lip before slipping his shoes off and climbing atop the covers.  As he put out his arm in offering of support Felicity didn’t hesitate to inch closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her back, protecting her from the world.

"Then I'll be here when you wake up,” he reminded her.  “I told you, we take it one step at a time.”

And he was.  He was there at 2am when she woke up already in tears.  Again an hour later when she found herself in the bathroom, dry heaving in a desperate attempt to get rid of the weight settling in her stomach.  And he was there just after dawn when she woke up to an empty bed but the smell of pancakes wafting in from the kitchen and a note that simply read, ‘take a shower, _then_ we eat.’

She knew she didn’t want to eat. She didn’t even want to get out of bed.  As expected, with the energy a new day brought her, came a fresh batch a guilt and an overwhelming fear about turning on the TV, radio, opening a newspaper and reading about the bomb that was dropped in the US.  The bomb that caused thousands of deaths.  Years of environmental devastation.  The bomb she wasn’t good enough to stop.

But Felicity got up anyway.  Oliver’s pleas to trust him still ringing in her ears.

She meant to rush through her shower but she found herself stuck under the water, washing and rewashing her hair, until the the stream began to run cold.  Only then did she throw on pajamas and make her way back into the living room, still patting her hair dry.

“I didn’t even know I had pancake mix…” she questioned as she eyed the suspiciously tall stack of pancakes on her plate.

“You _didn’t_.  Nor did you have milk, eggs, or any kind of meat product other than some dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.  Your freezer was only full of popsicles and about 5 trays of ice cubes.”

Despite her better judgement, Felicity felt a laugh escape her lips.  She could see the sorrow on Oliver’s face, the pain from the previous night in his eyes, but despite that, he was still so good at distracting her from her’s.  He knew how to make her smile, even when everything in her heart was telling her she didn’t deserve to.

“ _Honestly_ , Felicity.  Are you living off fast food?   _How_ do you survive?”

“Basically,” she admitted.  “You didn’t expect me to start cooking for myself, did you?  I barely did that _before_ you taught me that home cooked meals didn’t have to be painful to eat.”

“Well you should _try_.  I ran out when you were in the shower, just to the little store around the corner, and grabbed the essentials for you-”

“You think that’s worth it?” Felicity questioned, cutting him off. “What will I need them for? When Darhk could destroy Star City this afternoon?”

The mood in the room dropped.  But Felicity needed it to.  She couldn’t go through this meal pretending this was all normal.  Pretending everything was just going to be okay again.

“Yes,” Oliver answered firmly, nodding as he dropped yet another pancake onto her plate.  “Because we have to believe it will be worth it. If we don’t keep fighting, if we don’t keep _trying_ to do better, to have _hope_ , Damien Darhk has already won.”

Felicity sighed sitting at the counter as Oliver turned off the stove with one hand and motioned for her to eat with the other.

“But hasn’t he _already_ won?”

“No.  We stopped his plan… or at least put it on pause.  And I know you want to mourn those people that we couldn’t save but for now, just for a bit longer, we have to focus on the ones we did.  The ones we can _still_ save.  Once that’s done, once Darhk is taken care of for good, _then_ we can give them the proper respect.  Give them the sorrow and the grief they _deserve_.  And I promise, Felicity we will.  We’ll fight so we can do that.”

Oliver held out a fork to Felicity, waving it gently in front of her face before she took it.  “So first we eat, then we plan.  And we make it through this the way we always have.  Together.”

Felicity nodded, repeating Oliver’s words in her mind.  She may not be able to make it right, to make up for all those lives she wasn’t able to save.  But she _could_ still try to save others.  She owed that to Darhk’s other victims.  

And as she took a tentative bite of her breakfast, Oliver reached out and took her free hand, rubbing his thumb in rhythmic circles over her own.

Felicity knew she still couldn’t make sense of her feelings.  And she had zero idea about how to proceed.  But she had to have hope.  She had to believe that together they would make it through this.  That she, _they_ , would be able to make a difference.  

And, for now, that hope was enough. It had to be.

**Author's Note:**

> More of my work can be found on my Tumblr, at Deadlybingo.


End file.
